


Electric or Eclectic?

by holtcest



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Holtcest, Reunion Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtcest/pseuds/holtcest
Summary: Maybe it was the thrill of the fight combined with the sheer joy she felt after finding him that has her tugging on the sash at his waist, but she can’t be damned to think too hard about it when his hands are wandering down her sides, groping at her ass with the kind of desperation that inspires men to war.





	Electric or Eclectic?

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes I think about their reunion and them letting the thrill of the fight get the better of them.
> 
> \--
> 
> follow my blog if you want more content/want to send a request!  
> holtcestsims.tumblr.com

The adrenaline is rushing through her veins from the fight, her chest heaving in deep breaths as the body of their assailant lays on the ground, dead.

Pidge takes one look at Matt, at the flush on his cheeks and the way he seemed to be struggling for composure-- in a swift movement, she’s throwing her helmet off, letting it crash to the side before she flings herself at Matt, arms looped around his shoulders. He stumbles only once before wrapping his arms around her just as tight, with as much longing as a human can muster. For a few moments, they just hug, tightly worming their arms around each other until Pidge makes the first move in a rush of lips and teeth; her lips against his trying to convey every twisted emotion she felt. All of her sorrow, her love, her exhilaration-- a siren’s song that pulls Matt in until he’s kissing back against her with matched fervor.

Maybe it was the thrill of the fight combined with the sheer joy she felt after finding him that has her tugging on the sash at his waist, but she can’t be damned to think too hard about it when his hands are wandering down her sides, groping at her ass with the kind of desperation that inspires men to war. They can’t get each other undressed fast enough; there’s so much fabric on him that Pidge finds herself ripping away at the layers of cloaks and armor, making irritated, upset whines the entire time. Matt’s finally found the release hatches on her armor, and is pressing them in quick succession; her chestplate and arm guards fall to the floor with a loud _clunk_ , followed swiftly enough by her belt. Between feverish kisses they suck in greedy breaths, fingers fumbling with latches and zippers, with peeling back fabric that’s far too inconvenient for how hot their bodies are becoming.

When the clingy fabric that makes up her flight suit finally peels away from her skin, she pulls her arms out of it, dying to feel bare skin on her own. It seems like her brother has a similar idea, because he’s running calloused and scarred fingers along her skin, tracing old battle wounds and fresh bruises, mouthing along her jaw with a ravenous sort of passion. Pidge is tugging on his hair, moaning sweetly as he nips at the tender spots of her throat, hooking a leg over his hip to press herself flush to him. Like everything's falling away from them, Matt’s backing her up until she hits the back of his control desk, hands grabbing at her hips to lift her onto it. He kicks off his boots, his pants; she’s making quick work of her leg armor and boots before nearly tearing the rest of her flight suit off her body.

Matt traces the outline of a large, curving scar that curls neatly against her collarbone, trailing his finger along the length of it until it ends at her hip bone. “You got roughed up, huh?”

“I could say the same for you,” Pidge counters easily, arcing into his touch as he snaps the elastic of her panties before pulling them from her dripping slit. “ _Fuck_.”

He laughs and it’s the most relieving sound she’s ever heard; he crowds her against the desk, pulling his own underwear down to join the trailing pile of clothes behind them. Diligently, he’s thumbing along her cunt until he decides to roll her clit against the pad of his finger, smearing his skin in her wetness and she can’t contain the bubbling sort of moan she makes as a result. Matt dips his head down to suck marks into her throat, onto her shoulders and back up again while she writhes under his attentions. It takes most of her focus to maintain an upright position, but luckily for her, her brother does have the ability to feel pity-- he’s slipping two fingers into her tight heat, the absolutely vulgar noises her body makes heating her skin and turning her cheeks pink. Impatiently, she’s rocking down onto his fingers, begging sweetly for more, for everything he can give her, and Matt is only too happy to oblige. The adrenaline is still thrumming through her veins, beating her heart like a wardrum against the confines of her ribcage as he pulls his fingers out of her to give his leaking cock a few hardy pumps.

“Please,” Pidge whines, spreading her legs to show off just how _wet_ she was, how much of a mess she’s making of his workstation; she watches the way his eyes trail down her body until his pupils are blown wide, eating up the color of his iris’. “ _Matt_ , please--”

“ _Damnit_ , Katie,” Matt whimpers lowly, pulling her body closer to him and teasing them both by just sliding himself along her slippery folds. Pidge is biting her lip, rolling her hips to try and get him _in her already_ , when he finally plunges himself into her body. Falling back ( _she can hear how the panels activate under her skin, but neither of them care_ ), she keens with an echoing moan, hooking her ankles behind him to encourage the haggard pace he sets.

The air between them turns humid, hot, thick in the wake of their excitement. The metal of the desk under her heats with her skin, and she can feel where the sweat pools against her skin, but how can she care when she _finally_ has her brother back? Nothing matters but the here and now, with his cock pumping into her and pressing against the tender muscle of her cervix with each thrust. Every responsibility she has can melt away like this-- she doesn’t have to be a paladin of Voltron, or a wayward human seeking out her family.

She can just be _Katie_ , and he can just be _Matt_ , and nothing can come between them.

When his thrusts gain speed and force, Pidge can feel herself getting dangerously close to cumming; the pressure is rising between her hips, and she makes sure Matt knows by the frantic way she’s rubbing at her clit. He swats her hand away and does it himself, eyes glazed over with lust and love and emotions neither of them can name.

“Come on, Katie. _Fuck_ \-- please,” Matt moans breathlessly, free hand groping at her breast and pinching a pretty pink nipple. “Cum for me, baby,”

As if she had any strength to deny such a request-- she nearly shouts his name as all the pleasure catches up to her at once, her pussy squeezing ( _squelching, stuttering_ ) around him tightly enough that she can feel the pause in his thrusts as she cums around his cock. If she thought they sounded vulgar before, the sticky noise his thighs make as they meet the back of her’s is truly an embarrassing noise. He keeps thrusting-- but doesn’t stop rolling her oversensitive clit in his fingers, pushing her for a second orgasm. Pidge’s hands scrabble for purchase, gripping onto his arms, to the table, anything at all--

“Matt, _Matt_ , oh my _god_ \--!” Her nails dig into his skin and she can hear how it excites him, how his bucking hips grow forceful and beatless; and as she cums a second time Matt’s groaning low in his chest, slamming against her womb and pumping her full of his cum. It sticks to her insides thickly, coating her in white and making her feel swollen and whole; she keeps him pinned to her by pressing the heels of her feet to the small of his back. Matt’s braced on his forearms, littering her face and lips in sweet kisses, breathlessly laughing and whispering to her about how much he missed her.

In a few minutes they’ll feel too sticky, too warm, and they’ll have to come back to the reality of their situation; back to the war, and the inevitability of having to return to the Castle. But for now, Pidge can hold him and kiss the scar along his cheek, can feel him rub circles into her hips and soften inside of her.

It’ll have to be enough for now.


End file.
